


slow and steady

by lenardo_09



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, everyone else makes like guest appearances lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenardo_09/pseuds/lenardo_09
Summary: Tae Joon has a good day.
Relationships: Crypto | Park Tae Joon/Makoa Gibraltar
Kudos: 15





	slow and steady

**Author's Note:**

> This constant stream of content where Crypto gets the short end of the stick frustrates me so I took the opportunity to write this request from battleteacake over on Tumblr !!!
> 
> I haven't gotten to write Gibto at all either so this was a lovely opportunity to change that. Hope you enjoy!!

Makoa had noticed many things about his boyfriend when they first met. His body was on the skinnier side, jacket hiding as much, with perpetual bags beneath shifty eyes, shoulders always tense and ready for a fight that was never coming. Makoa noticed a lot and none of it had been particularly good. 

And, eventually, Makoa learned why exactly that was, why Park would starve himself for days, work through the night, body shaking with caffeine and eyes tiredly overseeing every file transfer, every encrypted message. The fortress has seen some hard working people, has seen it in his own family, but Park was an entirely different breed of workaholic, almost like he didn't have an off switch, didn't have it in him to relax. 

The kid—can he even call him a kid, being a year younger than him?—didn't exactly have a positive mindset, didn't really have a good outlook on life. Maybe he was a kid, terrified of shadows that loomed, watching, unsure what to do, lost without guidance. Kid knew a lot, prided himself on his smarts, but he was still lost in anguish, of grief and resentment. 

Makoa’s learned about him, something others haven't even managed—hell, Makoa asked Elliott if he even knew anything about his supposed “rival” and just got a shrug and an utterance of: “He’s just some old fart—who cares?”

Well, Makoa did, and what he learned was… well, downright tragic. Just hearing about everything he suffered through, from a child to now, was heartbreaking. And when he held that shaking form in his strong arms, felt the kid shatter under him, saw the realest part of Crypto, it felt like an intrusion, like he shouldn't have witnessed something so strong break under the weight of others’ wrongdoings. Kid went through a lifetime of tragedy and letting him have this moment of vulnerability, letting himself simply be  _ human _ —it was the least he could do for him. 

Things slowly got better after the confession, after they shared their first kiss and simply basked in each other’s warmth. Park knew that someone heard his story and knew his name, knew that he wasn't simply a name that would fade away once he let himself vanish from the lives of others—it helped a lot, Makoa assumed, gave him some sense of value. 

It wasn't an easy process, certainly wasn't a quick one. His eating habits, staying up until ungodly hours, his simple disregard for his own health—slowly but surely, they improved, little nudges and suggestions from Makoa helping the process along. 

Today was a good day, Makoa noted. Park hated waking up early, preferring to stay in bed until early afternoon, unmotivated to get the day started. This morning, though, Makoa woke up to hazel eyes staring into his own, the hacker’s form bathed in beautiful golden rays, a sleepy but well-rested look to him, like he actually  _ slept.  _ He even had a smile curling those beautiful lips of his, which was a rarity in the morning, seeing as the man was grumpy until his coffee was acquired. It made the fortress’ lips form a grin of their own, radiant. 

“Mornin’, handsome,” he mumbles, a large hand coming up to trace the cybernetics framing olive skin, sensitive, if the shaky breath was anything to go by; never painful, as Park stated—just  _ sensitive.  _

“Good morning to you too,” he says back, eyes shutting and relishing in the warm touch. 

“Someone's in a good mood. What time did ya go to bed last night?”

Makoa went to bed as early as he got out of it, usually around nine or ten, so he usually didn't get to fall asleep with Park in his arms, the hacker always muttering “he’ll be there in ten minutes,” eyes glued to the screen in front of him. Very few times did the fortress actually convince him to come to bed, let himself be held as he desperately tried to drift off, but he was sometimes still awake, stating he just  _ wasn't tired.  _ Makoa hated it because the circles under his eyes worsened, and he looked like a breeze could blow him over if it was especially intense. He was sometimes too stubborn for his own good. 

There was a hum from the man, quiet and contemplative. “I think… half an hour after you did? I needed to let something update, and I felt tired, so I just…” A shrug. 

The grin that spread across Makoa’s visage was one of pride, joy. The fortress’ hand moved to his waist, gingerly wrapping around it and pulling him close. “A full eight hours can do you some good, eh?”

“Mmhm.”

“No need for any coffee this mornin’?”

Park scoffed, a smile still painting his visage. “Let’s not push it.”

—;;

Breakfast went relatively well. Makoa decided to make the basic essentials for a decent breakfast, and Park—well, he actually ate all of it. Color the fortress surprised, but he didn't push it, didn't bother asking if he was making an effort or if it was just a good day. 

Park just looked better throughout the day. He wasn't all glares and scoffs. He had the ghost of a smile on his face, chatting with Ajay and Ramya, actively contributing. He even seemed to tolerate Octavio’s presence for more than twenty minutes, which hadn't lasted  _ forever,  _ since Park didn't have exactly the most reliable social battery out of the legends. Him and Elliott weren't at each other’s throats either, and it seemed like Natalie and Nox left him alone. Even the newest addition to their roster, Mary, was having a nice conversation with him. The woman talked a mile a minute, going on and on about astrophysics, but Park didn't seem to mind a bit. 

The hacker just listened, put in occasional input, didn't seem like he was just half-listening or struggling to. 

Even joined Makoa at the gym, though he didn't exactly exercise. Just watched his boyfriend, sketchbook in hand and occasionally chatting with Anita. Bloodhound had come in as well, surprised to see Park there, and, though they were as antisocial as he was, actually managed to get into a conversation about their respective pets, their quirks and things that annoy them. Anita mentioned she wanted to get a dog at some point, and Park smiled at that, mentioning she'd finally have a jogging partner that could keep up with her. 

After the gym, the two headed out on a date—an actual date, and it was Park’s idea. Kid said he wanted to check out a bakery down the street, family-owned, and they did. Makoa had purchased some blueberry muffins and Park grabbed about four of their cheesecake slices. Park held hands with him, too, as they decided to walk around the area, just go on a walk, no destination. They walked through a park, went into a ceramics shop, ate at a small food shop, and sat on a bench as they talked—well, Makoa talked and Park listened—the day away. 

Midday hit, then eventually evening, and the two eventually went home, and Makoa suggested a movie, to which Park agreed to. Invited all the legends, had a nice movie night with them, and it was nice. Everyone joked and had a lovely time. Some obviously hadn't come, too tired, too busy, or too hostile with someone there, but their absence was barely noticed with the buzzing, warm atmosphere. 

But it was fun. Park had fun, and Makoa noticed. By the end of the movie, he was already passed out, and the man bid everyone farewell, took him back to their room and tucked him in. 

Makoa checked the time, to see when he went to bed. It was a little past ten o'clock, and the man was sleeping soundly. 

There was another smile drawn across the man's visage as he slid into bed alongside the other, arms wrapped securely around the smaller of the two, and let out a quiet sigh. 

Today wasn't an indication of Park’s long road of healing coming to an end. No, it was just a good for the man, and they both knew as much. It didn't mean he wouldn't have anymore nightmares, wouldn't have anymore sleepless nights plagued by nightmares and days where he simply refuses to eat. No, it was simply an indication he was getting better, even if bleeding wounds weren't healed, scars not forgotten, lingering phantom pains. 

Makoa didn't mind, because he'd be there for the good, the bad, and for the man in his arms, sleeping like the world didn't take the joy from a child too young, a man too broken by agony. 

He had this moment of safety, this day of good health and happiness. He deserved it. Deserved it and so much more. Makoa would make that known with every breath he could take, every kiss against olive skin, every gentle brush of large hands against him. 

“I love you. Sleep well.”

A kiss pressed to the top of Park’s head before he settled in, let his eyes fall shut, and joined his beloved in peaceful slumber. 


End file.
